Hot, Hot Heat
by cleverdistraction
Summary: When she wakes, she's hot...and Castle's got an idea for how to cool her down. Set immediately post-Always. Castle/Beckett smut.


Hot, Hot Heat

Rating: M

Summary: When she wakes, she's hot...and Castle's got an idea for how to cool her down. Set immediately post-Always. Castle/Beckett smut.

Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine; not the characters, not the title, not anything except the idea for all the sex being had in this fic.

A/N: Rating is serious business; step away now if that's not your cup of tea. And, yes, I did inadvertently get the idea for the title from the band of the same name (though, I did add the comma, if that means anything to anyone...).

When she wakes, she's hot. Too fucking hot. It's stifling and smothering and she can't untangle the sheet from her body fast enough. Her heart speeds up as she battles the thin, sticky fabric as it clings to her body. The sheet won't let go-it just twists and turns and gathers up around her body like it's going to choke the life from her. She mewls a noise of pained frustration just before her limbs pop free and kicks at the pile until it slithers down the side of the bed and onto the floor in a defeated lump.

She rolls over onto her stomach and spreads her legs as far apart as they'll comfortably stretch, freeing up every inch of space available for the cool air to hit.

At some point during the night, the temperature spiked and left them woefully unprepared: no air conditioner kicking on automatically, no respite or relief-just a ceiling fan turned on too low. Just the too stagnant air drifting lazily through the open window in the adjacent study.

She hates the heat. It feels like a bad omen-feels like the hand being dealt isn't in her favor even before the cards have been revealed. Heat means summer and summer means heartache. It means this fragile thing she's building with Castle is about to shatter just as it's finally been given a chance to solidify. They've never spent a summer together and she wants so badly for this one to be different.

It makes her lazy, lethargic, and she refuses to move-refuses to get out of bed and face reality. As soon as she steps one foot onto the floor, she'll have to wake from the dream she's been living in for the last twelve hours. The beautiful, amazing dream that she does _not_ want to give up.

She's stretched out on the bed for a good ten minutes before she starts to wonder where he's disappeared to. She opens her eyes reluctantly, peeking around the room and through to his study before turning her head toward the bathroom. She lets out a huff of frustration when she sees no sign of his presence and settles her chin on the pillow resting atop her folded arms. Just as she musters the resolve to step out of bed, she feels the mattress dip under his weight.

She smiles and starts to turn over to face him when a large hand at her shoulder blade keeps her in place. He strokes his palm back and forth in reverence, the rough pads of his thumbs catching against the softness of her skin. It's the only place where his body touches hers: the electric spark that threatens to set her whole body on fire.

But this heat isn't so bad. It's consuming and promising and _alive_.

He pulls away from her just as quickly as he appeared and just as she's about to protest, her world plunges into darkness. She gasps and lifts a hand to her face in surprise, brushing across the delicate satin now covering her eyes. She feels him fumbling to knot the fabric in place at the back of her head and licks her lips in anticipation.

His hands roam across her back in earnest now, trailing twin paths up and down her sweat-slick skin. Every pass creates friction, a burning that causes her back to arch and a whimper to escape her lips. Too hot. Too hot.

"If you're going to do that, at least turn on the AC," she grumbles as her body grows feverish. He chuckles, but makes no effort to withdraw his heat from hers. One hand departs briefly and she hears a clattering noise, like he's fumbling for something on the nightstand.

Her body jolts as the cold tip of an ice cube draws a broad swooping pattern down the curve of her side. She lets out a yelp at the shocking sensation, but it isn't long before she adjusts to the welcome change in temperature. Goosebumps erupt across her skin as he settles the rapidly melting square into the small of her back. He traces wide, lazy circles there until the cold liquid pools in the slight depression. She feels the last of the cube melting under the heat of his thumb as he strokes along the flare of her hip.

He moves suddenly, his broad tongue swiping at the liquid as she groans out her approval. Once he's lapped up every last drop, he soothes more of her heated skin with another frozen cube. He sweeps it in flowing, intricate shapes until she's arching her back further and pushing her ass up toward him. It's an offering he can't resist and he reaches up with his free hand to knead her flesh. She growls at the sensation and pushes back against him insistently.

"Please," she breathes out on a groan. It's too hot and it's too much and she's about to combust. Or melt into the sheets below them-anything, really, because her body cannot handle what he's doing for much longer.

He drags the cold remnant between his fingertips dangerously low before gliding it back up again and follows the movement with his lips and tongue. They graze softly, sweetly, as she squirms restlessly under him. After it melts, he runs his cool fingertips down from her shoulder to her wrist, tugging gently until she flips onto her back.

She's barely settled before he grips her face tightly, crushing his lips to hers with nearly bruising force. It's unexpected-leaves her breathless and overheated and wanting-but she reacts in kind, grasping at his naked torso to bring him closer.

She shifts her legs apart, opening herself up to him as she lifts her hips off the bed in invitation, but he doesn't move. He only smirks down at her as her lips part in frustration. She still can't see him, cannot tempt him with the look in her eyes, and that alone gives him the strength to continue.

He leans over her, but doesn't touch-wants to, but doesn't. Simply lets his warm breath wash over her as he whispers teasingly into her ear, "You're not the only one who has a trick with ice cubes."

She lets out a strangled groan below him, claws at him with her fingernails, begging him, until, until-_oh god_.

Another frozen piece connects with her skin, tracing the curves of her breast around and around, as he slowly moves toward the center. He takes his time then, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak as the condensate drips steadily down her chest. He uses the same method of attack on her other breast until she's gripping at his sides painfully.

He laughs through a wince as he pulls her grip from his side and lays her hand on the bed. He tightens his grip on her wrist for a moment in an inaudible command of: _stay put_. He sees her brow knit together just barely over the top of the silk and teases, "Hands to yourself for this part, Beckett."

She shifts below him rebelliously, but stills after a moment. He releases her wrist and turns his attention to the rapidly melting ice that's perched upon her body. In a swift move, he braces himself against the mattress and captures the little piece with his mouth, dragging it over her skin until he can devour her breast. He rolls the ice across her sensitive flesh over and over, her nipple hardening even more with the added attention.

He reaches his free hand up to lavish attention on her other breast as he does so, rolling the hard peak between his thumb and forefinger as he continues working his mouth expertly. Her quickening gasps fill the quiet room as she digs her fingers into the sheet beneath her.

She hooks one leg over his hip and nudges him with her heel to come closer. The action only causes him to slither away abruptly, though his hand remains on her breast, rough fingertips moving torturously slow on her tender skin.

She feels his heavy breathing trail down her body, lower and lower until a throaty groan rumbles through him. In the next moment, his cool, broad tongue consumes her sex. It's rough and gentle and needy all at once-a thirsting man after a drop of water.

He licks a path up to her clit, flicking his cold tongue through her folds, lapping at the juice he finds there. She's more than ready for him-doesn't need any more preparation, but he loves to give her this and she's more than willing to be greedy where his tongue is concerned.

Her hips rise up to meet him as he sucks hard on her clit, his tongue laving as it creates a vacuum too sensational to resist. It builds and builds, tightens the muscles low in her abdomen until she's overwhelmed and panting. Her fingers grab at his hair and the muscles in her thighs tense repeatedly. She's close and they both know it.

He smiles against her clenched thighs as he lessens the pressure and pulls her back from the edge slowly. She's left keening, whispering a chorus of '_nononono_' until he pulls away entirely.

She twists her hips, seeking out that lovely friction that she's been robbed of so suddenly. His hands stroke up and down against her bent legs, soothing her away from her frenzied state. It isn't until her breathing begins to even out and her delicate fingers pull at his wrists that he moves again. Still not exactly where she wants. Without preface, he dips two fingers into her, letting out a groan at the feeling and the sounds she makes under him.

He loves the surprised gasp she lets out every time he makes a move she doesn't expect. Loves the way this woman's calculating and analytical mind cannot comprehend his next movements through the haze of desire. She's jumping to conclusions and making assumptions and _god_, he loves to be the one who throws her off her game so thoroughly.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmurs as he thrusts deeper, curling his fingers into a tangle of nerve endings that has her screaming out for release. He picks up his speed and lets his thumb graze past her clit on alternating turns. She rises to meet him, desperate for more, and he takes the opportunity to press down on her abdomen with his free hand. The weight stills her movements and presses his fingers even more purposefully against her until she's writhing underneath him, head tossing fitfully to the side as she approaches release.

He takes her distraction as opportunity to pull his fingers away and slide himself into her, slowly filling her up. Her breath catches and he stills to let her adjust. But without a second thought, she wraps her legs around his middle and uses the leverage to move against him.

A low moan escapes her throat as he hastens to meet her, grasping her hips in his hands on her next arch upward. Her lithe body twists to meet his, rocking against him roughly, purposefully. It's quick and it's dirty and it's _everything_.

He can tell she's close by the way her legs tighten around him, but she uses that power to send them both toppling into the sheets at his back. She sits astride him as a powerful smirk plays upon her lips. She reaches up with both hands to pull the fabric away from her eyes and tosses it across the room. The look in her eyes is feral, powerful, challenging: every bit the hellcat he'd always imagined her to be.

Every muscle in her body reacts when she raises up. Her eyes flutter closed as she holds herself there, clutching at his chest in need. Her mouth falls open as she sinks down on his length and the silence that falls from her perfect lips is almost more compelling than any other sound he's ever heard.

She moves quickly then, unable to hold herself together as her hips crash into his. He can barely take his eyes off of her rising form enough to move himself. He feels useless, immobile, spellbound by the way her strong thighs clench and her breasts sway with the motion.

She's so far gone, so determined; she's rhythmic and spastic above him all at once, racing toward the finish line he's denied her thus far. Her hair falls like a curtain around her as she works harder above him. He can't help himself-he clenches his broad hand into the locks at the base of her skull and tugs firmly as she moves. She moans in response and tightens her already knuckle-white grip on the flesh of his chest.

His hips rock into hers, sending her so much closer as he reaches up with his free hand to palm her breast. She's sensitive to his touch, a stuttering gasp tumbling out as the muscles in her toned stomach tense in response. He knows how little it would take to send her careening over the edge, so he obliges. He slides his hand down her sweat-slick body until he's brushing his thumb over her clit, over and over and over until she cries out, crashing down on him from the force of it.

He holds her to him tightly as she spasms around him. He feels every inch of her pressed up against him, hot and heaving and beautiful, and it's enough; it will always be enough just to have her here with him. A few quick pumps later and he's crushing her to him even harder, a thunderous "Oh, god, Beckett," ripping through his chest and vibrating through her as he finishes.

They lay entangled, too boneless to move, until the heat finally gets to them and they peel themselves apart.

"Now can we turn on the AC?" she pants.

"Sure," he chuckles into her ear as he reaches to kiss her temple. It's simple and sweet and it's a reminder of all the things she's so lucky to have—a reminder that this dream she's living _is_ reality. Even if nothing else is perfect: this is.

He moves to get out of bed, but she catches his wrist before he gets more than a step away. She kneels on the mattress and pulls him back into her, stroking lazy circles into his abdomen as she looks up at him coyly.

"Maybe we should shower first?" she says with a wink, her hand drifting lower as his eyes grow wide in disbelief.

"Give a guy some time to recover, would you?" he groans dramatically. She bites her lip at him sweetly before she grabs the last semi-solid ice cube from the bowl on the nightstand and pops it into her mouth. She stands then, brushes her body against his, and saunters away to the bathroom, tugging his hand gently behind her as she goes.

"You're going to be the death of me."

End.

A/N: Let me know what you think-keeps the muses happy!


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